How Santana Got Kicked Out of Glee Club
by myfeetlitup
Summary: What it says on the tin.  Rated T for language.  Not for fans of Schue.


Santana sat in the choir room, examining her nails as Mr. Schue droned on and on. She wished she could completely tune out these parts of glee rehearsal and only pay attention once the singing started, but she kept half an ear on the conversation in case there were any opportunities to cut someone down a size.

"…what I'm saying is, you guys are really good at being spontaneous, and there's a really fresh energy to everything we do, but if we want to get to Nationals and _win_ this year, you've got to buckle down and focus. Last year, you were underprepared, and it showed, and that's what cost us Nationals, so-"

"Mr. Schue, if I may?" Kurt had raised his hand. Santana smirked, noting his intimidating bitch face (though it wasn't as epic as hers).

Mr. Schue sighed that sigh he seemed to reserve only for Kurt, and Santana felt said bitch face coming to the surface. "Yes, Kurt?"

"I'd just like to point out that deciding to write and perform two original songs just a week before the competition was perhaps a little ill-advised and likely contributed to our lack of readiness at Nationals."

Mr. Schue began to frown, but Santana decided to pipe up before he could respond, that vindictive feeling that only came about when she had an opportunity to point out the pedestal he had decided to place himself on coiling pleasantly in her belly.

"Yeah, and if I'm being honest, Mr. Schue, it probably didn't help that you basically abandoned us in New York to think about going after your little Broadway dream. I mean, did you really expect us to sit on our asses in a hotel room while you were off having fun? I mean, I know there are some losers in this club, but nobody is quite that tragic." She turned to smirk at Mercedes's new bf, who was sitting in for the afternoon to see if he wanted to join. "You get used to how inappropriate he is most of the time eventually, I promise."

Mr. Schue's jaw had dropped open and it looked like he was trying to catch flies. Several of her teammates were hiding grins behind their hands. Tina actually let out a snort of laughter.

Mr. Schue stared at her for a second, before his gaze slid to settle on Mercedes's bf.

"Santana," he spoke in that grim voice, as though what he was about to say pained him, "I will not tolerate you sabotaging the glee club's attempts to get new members by scaring Marcus away. I've tolerated your bad attitude and underhanded tactics for far too long now. I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

There were several gasps. Santana felt like the world was narrowing to focus on a close up shot of every little detail of her face, so she struggled to keep a cool demeanor. She let her lip curl and glared at Mr. Schuester, crossing her arms.

"Wait, Mr. Schue…what do you mean?" Rachel Berry was talking. _Rachel Berry _was sticking up for her.

"I mean that Santana is no longer welcome in New Directions. That's enough, Rachel," he snapped when Yentl opened her mouth to speak again. "And that goes for everyone, guys. If you have a problem, you can leave, too."

Santana glanced around the room. Brittany looked like she was about to burst into tears. Rachel was wiggling in her seat and adjusting her hair uncomfortably. Finn had that stupid expression on his face that always appeared when his tiny brain was trying to catch up with the rest of the room. Mike Chang had that affronted look he usually only wore for when someone was being an asshole to Tina. Kurt's spine was straightening more than she thought possible, considering the kid had perfect posture all the time anyways, and his jaw was set. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Bu-"

"No, you know what? Don't bother," Santana snapped, standing up, "Zizes ditched out. Quinn is gone. I might as well bail too, because it's obvious this sinking ship isn't the place for a fierce bitch like me."

Kurt's mouth snapped shut. Santana knew he wanted to bring his boy toy to McKinley, and New Directions was a big part of what would get him there. Rachel looked at her as though personally offended. Her hands trembled as tears started to fall down Brittany's cheeks, so she slapped them onto her hips and tossed her hair.

"And there's no point saying anything. I think we all know that while we can rip each other a new one any time we want, the minute any one of us says something bad about Mr. Schuester, no matter how true it is, we get smacked down." She nodded at Kurt, and his mouth tightened; no doubt he was remembering his trip to the principal's office last year for speaking his mind.

"That's enough, Santana!" Mr. Schue's voice rose in anger. "I'll see you in Principal Figgins's office."

She wouldn't cry. She wouldn't let him - them - know how much it meant to her.

"Why am I not surprised?" She drawled, turning to smile nastily at Mr. Schuester. "And no you won't, Mister Pompous McLovesVests. I am _so _over this." She rolled her eyes and turned on her heel and stalked towards the door, her Cheerio skirt swinging. She squeezed her eyes shut at Brittany's plaintive "Santana!" as she left the room, trying to think of something in her life that still made sense.


End file.
